


Silly Butterflies

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clints a good bro, Cutting, Gen, Kinda Dark, Natasha Needs a Hug, Natasha-centric, Origin Story, Red Room, Self Harm, based on another fanfic I read, but loosely based, im sorry, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9456821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I was a butterfly once.""What happened.""Butterfly were too silly to keep around.""They were?"Shoot me."He thinks she's insane. Insane and sad are silly.





	

She sits on the edge of a dirty tub in France. A gun in the magazine holder by the toilet and a small blade in her hand. 28 perfect slits across her body. She hears a faint thud on the roof. She should be sleeping. But she isn't.

If years of listening for desperate girls scatter across the barracks like baby spiders hadn't happened, if she had a normal childhood, she wouldn't have hear it.

Her eyes lazily flicker to the gun. She doesn't move. Instead, she turns on more lights on, the sudden light blinds her. Her hearing seems heightened before her eyes adjust.

The blood runs off the tub, it's crimson like her favorite lip stick. Red is a symbol for blood. But does she bled? She cuts again.

The cuts look pretty. Long, graceful. People don't always notice that they are however, cuts. So memorized by the color and the way the beads dance across the skin like a rendition of Swan Lake. They forgot that it's fueled by haunting souls and an itch to change out of her skin and into someone new. Skin so new that it doesn't have scars. Skin that hasn't been touched by pain.

The floor boards seemed quiet, he's here. She unlocks the door and smiles. Her vision seems hazed but he doesn't stand a chance against her

The scars glitter under the light, the name Black Widow is appropriate. Long thin legs are eerie similar to her cuts. Spiders are loathsome creatures. They kills those close to them and live without emotion. Always spinning silky webs. Beautiful from a distance but you don't want to get close.

Her blood red lip curve up into a full smile as the door swings open.

She doesn't have to look up to know there's a weapon trained on her.

She waits for the bullet to fire. She hates waiting. She sighs impatiently and pulls her gun out in a single motion. The safety's off.

She can still win this. Her heels are always hot from the bullet that barely miss. She's always gets out alive. She could break the bullet with her blade and fire the gun at the same time.

Such lousy skill. Killing and such. Spiders would made good ballerinas. So painfully graceful. Lost in her own world, she twist the blade around and swings the her Glock by the trigger around her finger.

The man in front of her backs up slowly and pulls the string back. She suddenly realizes that it's a bow and arrow about to kill her.

She snorts a laugh and he frowns.

"Something funny?"  
"Spiders are loathsome creatures."

He thinks she's crazy. His bow lowers just a fraction of an inch as she waves her gun around like it's nothing. She's still sits on the edge of the tub. It's cold but she doesn't mind. Blood still drips from her stick thin legs and her lips bled. She's not even sure why she's still talking. Maybe she is crazy.

"Are they?"  
"You're very silly."  
"Am I?"  
"Silly, silly boys. You lowered your weapon."

He raises it again but it's lost it motivation. He's intrigued and she wants him that way. She continues the charade. He's drifting out of focus. She can still win. She can still get what she wants.

"Shoot me."  
"Why."

Her cheeks feel wet but it's not raining. She want to be shot. Dying is winning, winning is survival.

  
"Spiders aren't something people want around."  
"They aren't?"  
"I was a butterfly once."  
"What happened."  
"Butterfly were too silly to keep around."  
"They were?"  
"Shoot me."  
He thinks she's insane. Insane and sad are silly. Flecks of tears and blood drown her eyes and she can't see. Usually silly, silly boys are focused on her body. The way she leaves the zipper on the cusp of her breast. Too focused on her chest to realize she has guns in both hands.

She's wearing a messy bun and sweats. Pants rolled up and short sleeve shirt. Her eyes are dimmed with red and she's tired.

He thinks she's insane and insomnia ridden. But still, he takes the blade and the gun. He promises to make her a butterfly once again.

 


End file.
